Practice Writing

I don't think I could do any other job. Sometimes I think I could, but that's only at moments where I haven't been properly caffeinated and/or self-medicated.

I took this position ABD, on the understanding that if I didn't finish in 3 years, I would lose this job. Didn't bother me much until the summer between year 2 and 3.

Getting motivated to sit down and write wasn't so hard. I wouldn't force myself. I would go out and find someone delivering beer and watch them. For as terrible as that job looked, imagining doing it for 8 hours a day 5 days a week was enough. I'd come home and sit down at the keyboard no problem.

My friend just called me: "I spent all day yesterday reading a book!" Amazing life we have, I think. "Good," I say, "What was it?" She is also le professor, but not in rhetoric.

"On Writing, by Stephen King. I've never really read him, have you?"

"In High School, yea, I read him some," I lied. I think I was really obsessed with The Stand, which replaced my boring Chemistry class, and the Gunslinger series, I think it is called The Dark Tower.

"He says you should just sit down and pop off the first draft and go back to it later to do a second draft."

"Do you think it's possible to write like that?" I'm pretty uncertain about getting advice from people who have a talent. Hence my suspicion of hiring people who have won a lot of debate tournaments to coach or teach debate. People who have finaled after a struggle, or won a bit, that indicates to me something other than talent. Perhaps it's all talent and I just prefer a particular kind.

"Sure why not," she says. "I mean, he might be a genius or something though, but it might be good. How do you do it?"

"I used to watch people deliver beer; it doesn't work like it used to."
"I guess it will work in July or August."
"You're weird."
Yes, I know. "I need to explore new techniques. I have plenty of ideas to write about."
"What's your favorite idea?"
"Right now I really like putting conversations from my everyday life into my blog"
"What just like they happen?"
"Yea, well," I wonder if I should give it all away over the phone. "I make them into little plays."
"Ok. Sounds weird." The compulsion to repeat. "Do you just put them in unedited."
"Well. I do sort of bend them a little, but not much." Gave it away. I sigh.
"Do you do anything other than plays?"
"Thinking about doing something different."

The truth of the matter is pretty naive. Writing something is working on all of your writing, I think. But I also believe it's a cover for procrastination.

What if there's a finite amount of energy you have for writing in a given day? What if I'm wasting it? What about all those projects in that notebook?

Time is pretty finite, of that we can be sure enough.